


It

by nanjcsy



Series: The Unforgiven [29]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dog training, Failed escape, Humiliation, Knifeplay, Loss of Identity, M/M, Repressed Memories, Thramsay - Freeform, hostage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 17,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1702370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/pseuds/nanjcsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon....Reek.....It</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Descent

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is really short, I know..but the idea had to come out...more tomorrow!

Two things can be heard whenever a certain cell is visited.  Screamed in brilliant agony, blasting through the air like a trumpet. _"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME, PLEASE, PLEASE, WHY?"_

It took two fingers, then another.  One toe and a permanently lame foot.  Then it took castration before the screaming questions stopped.  It took a new name before begging for death stopped.  _"You are no longer a man, we know you are not a woman...we shall have to call you an It.  Go ahead, smile at my joke, Reek.  Smile. Now"_

When Reek tried to smile, that is when the hammer came, shattering teeth and teaching a bloody lesson.  Most of the cell lessons were bloody and very effective.  Reek was so injured, so broken and weak, it no longer cared that it was a freakish creature.  By the time it learned to crawl, to kneel and timidly speak to its Master, it only knew the Reek it was now.  

The first time Lord Ramsay took his new pet out of the cell, it whimpered and sobbed.  Pale, gaunt and shaking, led on a leash as Reek crawled in a freakish parody of a dog, all eyes were on the stinking horror.  It did not care for the others at all, Reek was keeping its eyes on the Master, so terrified of the pain of a mistake.  Without a pause, Ramsay walked through the halls and outdoors, grinning at the stunned looks at his creation.  Ramsay walked slow enough that his creature could keep up, but fast enough that it would make Reek struggle for it.  Finally, Ramsay reached the kennels, where Ben grimaced and backed up to fresher air. _"Seven hells, milord!  What the hell is that?  Smells worse then the dogs after they have rolled in guts and shit!"_   Laughing, Ramsay yanked the leash harshly, dragging the tired pet closer.  _"This is my new bitch, it's name is Reek.  I see you can tell why the name fits.  Little Reek has been a very slow learner, but it has learned enough to earn the kennels.  Just treat it like another of the dogs, Ben."_

Ben knew his Lord long enough to grumble about it, but would not dare to say no.  So Ramsay left Reek in the kennel master's care.  Grabbing the leash, he dragged the creature into the kennels.  _"You stay right there, stinking fucker, move and I'll get my strap!"_ Ben threatened Reek, then dropped the leash, heading further into kennels.  When he came back, the cringing pet was still as if frozen, eyes streaming with tears.  _"At least you are obedient."_ Ben muttered as he dumped two buckets of freezing water on the stinking creature.  Reek howled but did not move except for uncontrollable shaking.  Roughly, as if this were another of his hounds, Ben soaped, scrubbed and rinsed until Reek no longer made his eyes water.  _"Ramsay may not care that you fucking stink, but I do.  Once you catch the scent of the hounds, we can let you be nice and dirty again.  That smell I can tolerate."_ Ben spoke in the absent minded tone that he always used, he had a habit of constantly talking to the dogs.  Reek responded by listening, staying still, even when it was given a quick rub down with an old cloth.  

Reek was a good hound.  Ben no longer thought of it as anything but a unique form of dog.  Reek was an obedient pet.  Ramsay thought of Reek as that, an exotic creation that he could play with.  Reek was a cowardly freak and that is how it thought of itself. 

 


	2. Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek finds temptation. Ramsay finds another reason to discipline.

For four days and nights, rains poured, flooding the courtyard, preventing Ben from taking the dogs out.  The hounds were restless, snapping at each other, pacing until it drove Ben crazy.  He would swear then open the cages so they could at least run in the kennel.  One hound did not run about, of course.  Reek would crawl a bit to stretch out, then would sit near the fire.  Ben would be there in his creaky chair drinking till he passed out, grumbling about the weather.  A few times some of the Boys would come down to drink and play dice.  Reek would retreat into it's cage, scared of the Boys who have tormented the pet many times before. 

Ramsay sent for Reek more than usual, due to the flooding, he was trapped inside like everyone else.  He thrilled to Reek's terror as he played games that his simple minded pet could never win.  Ramsay used his pet in every way he could think of, loving the begging, the tears and the pain in it's eyes.  In between the torment, he would caress his obedient little Reek, telling it that it was his most favorite bitch.  Brokenly, the pet would thank him and shudder passively, grateful for the small reprieve.  _"Pour wine for me, pet.  Do not spill it this time, Reek, or it will be more than the fourteen lashes."_ Reek hobbled painfully to the small table and with trembling hands, it so carefully, so very carefully, poured the wine.  Reek breathed an audible sigh of relief when not a drop was spilled _.  "Very good, little_ _one."_ Ramsay cooed when Reek brought the goblet and knelt before him with it.  _"Now you may suck my cock and you know not to dare miss swallowing a drop."_

On the fifth day, the sun was brilliant and hot, quickly drying out the mud.  Ben threw open cages and the big doors.  _"Everyone of you, outside now!  Move it!"_ With a snap of his strap, Ben led all the hounds outdoors.  After he had his breakfast, Ben decided to let the hounds run about the forest for a bit.  He was sure that Ramsay would want to hunt soon, but the girls have been locked up for so long, they would not be able to focus.  So he let them run and play wildly, as he lay under a tree, half dozing in the warm day.  Reek had crawled about in the soft grass for awhile, then decided to lay in a wonderful smelling patch of wildflowers.  The pet watched the clouds move, then it noticed something, a dash of color.  Reek's eyes focused on the leaves in the tree nearby and there was that flash of red again.  It was an apple. 

Reek could not remember the last time it ate a whole apple that was not rotted.  _"Maybe I can beg Ben for the apple?  I always behave, am always good and he_ _knows it."_ The thoughts made Reek even more desperate to eat that apple.  Before the pet could scare itself out of the idea, Reek sat up and looked for Ben.  It's heart sank when it saw Ben asleep.  Waking the man up to ask him to retrieve an apple for Reek would surely earn a strapping.  Whimpering, the hound looked up at the apple, out of reach of a dog.  Crawling, Reek went directly underneath the ripe fruit and stared, drooling.    It took ten minutes before Reek decided the apple could easily be plucked.  All the pet would have to do is stand up for a single moment, reach and pluck the apple down.  Then Reek would be back on the ground, eating, licking the juice of that apple.  Of course, Reek had no permission to stand up.  This made the creature cry but the temptation was simply too much and Reek stood on shaky legs.  A thin arm reached up and the apple was in it's hand.  With a small cry of victory, Reek collapsed back down and bit deep, ignoring the blast of pain from broken teeth.  The taste was wonderful, amazing, sweet and tart all at once.  

As Reek swallowed the first bite of the apple, a shadow fell over the pet.  Reek peeked up fearfully, expecting Ben there with the strap, ready to beat the hound for standing and stealing the fruit.  Instead, it was worse, so much worse.  The apple rolled out of the shaking hand as Reek looked up at Ramsay. _"I was coming to take you on a hunt today Reek.  You would have even had some fresh meat for dinner tonight.  Imagine my amazement, to come upon my faithless hound standing without permission, to steal one of my apples.  It looks like my pet is in dire need of discipline instead of a hunt."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know each chapter is really short, just the way my mind seems to be working right now.


	3. Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, Ramsay finds the perfect way to punish his Reek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a little research on the anatomy of a hand for this bit. Please spread out your hand and take a close look. Your metacarpal bones have spaces in between them. A knife can be slid through with much pain but minimal damage if done correctly. Please refer to this link for images. http://outpatient.stanfordhospital.org/clinics/orthopaedics/sportsmedicine/procedures/hand/anatomy.html

Reek wanted to explain, wanted to beg for mercy but was frozen in terror.  In such extreme fear, the creature simply whimpered and trembled.  Ramsay stared down at his disobedient little pet for a moment, then moved quick as a viper.  Grabbing a fistful of hair, Ramsay pulled his pet up, then dragged the wailing creature past the now awake Ben and through the courtyard.  He did not stop until Ramsay was inside his chambers, then he threw the wretched beast to the floor.  Reek lay sprawled on the rug, looking like a broken toy, cast aside, silently weeping, waiting for the agony to begin.  Standing over the miserable creature, Ramsay mused.  _"Now, what shall we address first, Reek?  The stealing of my apple?  Or standing without permission?  I would think standing as if you were an equal, standing as if it were a natural thing, no permission needed is the worse offense.  You do understand you deserve punishment, don't you, my Reek?"_

The pet nodded and finally gathered enough courage to peek up timidly at it's Master.  _"Yes, Master.  Reek had no right to stand or eat the apple.  Please forgive me, I will never be bad like that again."_ All the words came out in a thin pleading tone, as Reek rose to hands and knees, to show submission.  Shaking his head with disapproval, Ramsay disagreed with his creature.  _"No Reek, I am not convinced you are sorry and I will not forgive you.  Since you enjoy standing so much, do so now."_   With a sob, the creature shakily stood up, wringing mangled hands together, head down low.  Grabbing his pet by the back of its scrawny neck, Ramsay moved his terrified Reek forward across the room until they came to a doorway that led to Ramsay's closet.  _"Turn around, Reek, face the bedroom."_ As his pet complied, he pushed his pet so that is stood just before the threshold of the room.  _"Stay right there, Reek.  Stretch your arms out,pet, put your hands flat on the sides of the doorway.  Flatten the hands out, Reek."_ The confused creature complied, looking as if Reek were trying to hold the door frame up with it's bony hands.

Ramsay gave a satisfied smile then went to get something on his desk.  _"Reek, do not move even the slightest or I promise you that when you leave this room, you will do it with less body parts.  Do you understand me?"_ Nodding, Reek tried to turn itself to stone.  _"Yes, Master.  I won't move, I won't."_ When Ramsay approached his pet again, he had two thin knives in his hands.  They were elegant, lovely and very thin, Reek knew this would be very bad.  Grabbing his pet's face, he stared into the terrified, blue eyes. _"No matter what, you will stand still.  Scream, cry and beg all you wish, but if you move even the slightest, I will make this so much worse."_ Sobbing loudly now, Reek could not control the trembling.  _"Reek is trying to be good, please, Master, I cannot stop shaking."_ Ramsay grinned, amused and gave his little pet a kiss for being so charming.  _"Trembling is fine, dear little bitch, but that is all the movement you will make."_

 _"Reek, are you allowed to stand without permission?"_   As soon as the pet said no, Ramsay carefully slid the blade through Reek's hand, snugly between the bones, pinning the blade deep into the wood.  He watched smirking as the creature began to howl in agony.  Speaking loudly, so he can be sure the pet can hear him over the screeching, Ramsay asked another question. _"Reek, are you allowed to just take one of my apples without gaining permission?"_ Biting it's lip so hard it was bleeding, Reek whined the word no.  Ramsay slid the other blade through the skeletal hand that had earlier held an apple, pinning into the wood.  He stepped back to admire his handiwork and watched the pet scream.  _"There, now you can stand all you want, Reek.  In fact, you had best stay standing.  If you move those hands even a little, your hands will be destroyed.  Stay very still and when I take the knives out again, the hands can still heal."_ To Reek's horror, Ramsay took another knife from the desk.  However, Ramsay only used this knife to cut all of Reek's rags off the pathetic body.

Standing back a little, Ramsay pulled out his favorite whip.  _"Remember what I said about moving, Reek."_   With that warning, Ramsay began to strike, giving deep lashes that went from Reek's chest down to it's legs.  Screams of agony filled the room, as Reek tried to stay still and accept the lashing.  _"There, how pretty you look now.  Like a bloody decoration."_ Ramsay laughed and decided to be merciful, stopping after only sixteen lashes. _"I think I shall go hunting now, pet.  If you had behaved, you would be with me, enjoying the fine weather.  Instead, you will stand here and wait for my return."_ Pinned, Reek watched Ramsay leave, then stared in anguish at the knives, deep in skin and wood.  Sobbing, already feeling the strain, weak legs and sore feet not used to standing so long, Reek already was wishing to be on the ground, like the good pet it was.


	4. So Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek must endure. Then he is given the chance to show how sorry he is.

Reek suffered for an eternity and a bit longer than that.  It's world had shrunk in a blinding white agony, to just this body.  This wretched body, to blades sunk deep through flesh, beyond flesh and oh, it's feet were on fire!  The tired, weak legs were locked in their own special hell of muscle and bone, grinding, cracking.  It's pathetic body kept trying to slouch, to slide and find any relief.  Reek screamed, moaned and prayed to all Gods it had ever heard of to no avail.  Just as Reek knew it would lose, that it was going to slump and it's hands destroyed, Ramsay entered the chamber.

 _"Oh, please, please, Master, please, mercy! Reek will be good, Reek will never be bad again! Master, please!"_ Reek begged hysterically, trying with every last shred of  shattered will and mind to keep still.  Ramsay walked over to his pet, ever so slowly, enjoying every second of the enchanting sight.  Seeing his Reek displayed out, blood streaks and drippings on that pale bony frame.  The knives, as delicate as they were, the lovely hands were more delicate than the blades.  Those lovely huge eyes, brilliant with panic, deep with suffering, yet blank with horror.  Ramsay was hard as a rock by the time he stood in front of his Reek, his head swimming with lust.  For a moment, he thought to duck under Reek's arm and brutally fuck his slave while Reek was still pinned.  Ramsay had to remind himself that he did not wish to ruin his slave's hands permanently, then he paused again.  He was not sure that he cared enough to overcome the need to take his weeping pet savagely.

Reek could read the violence and need in the Master's face.  _"Master, please! Please let me show you how sorry Reek is!  Master, please, I...I want to be your whore, I want to..to be...to be taken by you."_ The pet pleaded so brokenly, it's face earnest and defeated, that Ramsay decided to be merciful.  With a sigh of mock annoyance, Ramsay chided his pet, as he removed the blades.  _"Silly, weak creature!  It has only been a few hours, look how dramatic you are being.  For shame, Reek.  Such a little weak bitch.  Very well, you may show me how sorry you are, Reek.  You best hope that I believe you are truly sorry or I will drive blades through your feet to my floor next."_   With a wail of sheer terror at the thought of blades through it's feet and the floor, Reek threw itself against Ramsay, the second the blades were out.

Ramsay easily caught the writhing, sobbing pet against him and lifted the creature easily.  Throwing his fragile Reek over his shoulder, Ramsay walked over to the bed.  He tossed his pet down and tore off his own clothing, his warning stare keeping Reek in place.  Crawling onto the bed and over his victim like a true predator, Ramsay growled against his pet's throat, before biting down hard.  Reek screamed and the body thrashed for a moment as sharp teeth sunk below the skin.  Why did all the pain have to be on the inside of it's skin, Reek wailed to itself.  After a minute or a year Ramsay stopped biting and began lapping up the bloody marks.  Reek whimpered and shook, hands laying uselessly, bleeding on the furs.  Ramsay crawled up so that his cock was dangling in Reek's face and he braced himself against the headboard.  _"Use that tongue and mouth of yours, show me that you are sorry, Reek."_

So desperate to appease Ramsay, that Reek was actually grateful to have the chance to show Ramsay pleasure.  Still whimpering, the pet opened his mouth wide and opened his throat wider still.  Ramsay forced himself down, driven further by Reek's gagging and choking.  Groaning, he fucked his pet's throat without a shred of mercy, one hand reaching behind himself, to rub and clench at the scars.  Ramsay watched the humiliation and pain that tore through his Reek's eyes, this made him just ram down into his pet till he near strangled it.  The heavy hand that played with the scars became a clenching claw, as Ramsay shuddered, coming so hard, he actually yelled with it.  As he poured come down his sputtering Reek's throat, he thought of how never before has he ever had such a powerful orgasm.

Ramsay slumped there, watching his pet try and swallow, while he caught his strength back.  Slowly, he pulled his cock out of Reek's mouth, gently reminding his pet to not spill a drop.  Good Reek, obedient Reek, spilled not a single drop.


	5. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay takes Reek on a long hunt. However, Reek discovers more than one predator in the forest.

_"REEK!"_ It's head snapped up and Reek began to scurry through the tall grass towards it's Master.  _"There you are!  Did you get lost again?  For a hound you have the worst sense of direction."_ Ramsay chided his pet with a careless grin.  On a three day hunt, Ramsay was in an excellent mood and Reek was grateful for it.  Nodding, the pet nuzzled against his Lord's boots and responded in a small voice.  _"Dim witted.  Reek does not think well.  Please, forgive me, Master."_   A large gloved hand gave the pet a rough tousle on dirty hair and Reek was thankful.  _"You are very lucky that I have other uses for you, little Reek.  As a hound, you are pathetic, aren't you?"_ Choking back a sob, Reek agreed.  _"A pathetic hound.  I am sorry, Master."_ Ramsay gave a small pat to his leg, instantly his creature was kneeling, pressing its bony length against the strong thigh. _"When we make camp this evening, you can show me how many other uses you have, Reek.  For now, go find Ben and the girls.  Try and stay with them this time."_

After Reek thanked the Master again for his forgiveness, it crawled in the direction that Ramsay had pointed out.  However, after some time, Reek still could not hear the girls or Ben.  Starting to become nervous, Reek whimpered softly, how mad Ramsay will be to know Reek was lost again.  Finally, in desperation, Reek began to call out for Ben and the hounds, but no response.  In full panic, the pet started to yell for it's Master, better to get whipped for being lost, then to be alone in these woods all night.  Scrambling, cutting skin like paper on rocks, shredding foliage, weeping loudly, Reek searched for anyone.  Then a sound.  Reek paused only for a second before scuttling towards the source, not registering anything but the hope of being found.  When Reek broke through a bush into a small clearing, it froze in pure confusion and horror.  Kyra was laying in front of Reek, she was a large, fierce dog and Reek liked to pet her.  The large head that Reek liked to run mangled hands over was a foot away from the body.  A little bit away was another dead dog, then another.  All of Reek's beloved friends, it's only friends were all slaughtered, all with no heads.

Reek was dim witted, not smart and could not think well.  Ramsay has made this very clear to the pet, that Reek should never try and think for itself.  All choices come from Ramsay or Ben, lost here among dead dogs, Reek did not know what to do.  Then the sound that had drawn the pet to this clearing came again.  Reek followed the sound and saw Ben moaning, bleeding, hiding in a ditch.  Sobbing in concern and relief, the pet crawled as fast as it could to Ben.  Staring at the pet with bleary eyes, clutching a bloody stomach, Ben whispered.  _"Reek, good dog, you need to get Ramsay.  Find your Master and tell him we have been attacked, its-"_ Before Ben could finish his sentence, an arrow suddenly lodged in his neck.  Reek stared in horror at the arrow, then at Ben's eyes glazing over into death.  Whipping around, Reek stared but saw nothing, no one.  In pure hysteria, the cowardly creation of a madman, pissed itself then crawled mindlessly.  Trying to stay very low, like Kyra tracking a rabbit, hiding in the tall grass, it tried to creep away.  Three arrows thunked near Reek, but it was beyond caring, just silent creeping, following a last order.  Find Ramsay.  Tell Master there is an attack.  Find Ramsay.

As Reek slithered, more sounds began to float from the wind.  The clash of steel, screams of dying men, roared threats and the whistle of arrows sailing for death.  None of the voices could be separated, Reek tried to hear for Ramsay or for one of the Boys.  It was no use, yet it was the only direction Reek could think of, so it crept toward the fighting noises.  Silence was almost sudden, causing Reek to freeze, listening.  A fast thundering sound already almost upon Reek, then pain as boots trampled.  Crashing, falling over the pet, a man landed heavily near Reek.  Scrambling backwards, hoping nothing was broken, Reek eyed the fallen man.  The hope that the man was dead barely started when the man turned around to face Reek.  The face staring at Reek was full of disgust and confusion but no recognition.  Yet deep in the dark depths of Reek's mind, something knew that face and the creature shrieked.  With a flurry of wasted limbs, the pathetic Reek tried to crawl away, denying the face, denying the memories surfacing.  Reek crawled until the past caught up and grabbed the pet's leg.  Feeble limbs tried to kick and squirm but it was useless, laughable really.  The man flipped Reek over onto it's back, holding a dagger to the scrawny throat.  Dirty long hair obscured the pet's face, which was a mercy because Reek was facing Jon Snow.


	6. Hunt

_"Who are you? What are you?"_ came the sneered words as the blade dug into flesh.  _"Reek. My name is Reek."_ Came the timid answer, the creature frozen in fear, sobbing.  With a look of pity, Jon takes his knife away, knowing this shattered man was no harm.  _"Were you the Bastard's hunt today?"_ asked Jon, taking in the appalling condition of this stranger, he assumed it was a peasant boy that Ramsay decided to kill for sport.  Reek does not lie, this was another thing Ramsay was very strict about.  All the creature has now is rules, or it will have to think of Jon Snow and that was too hard to do.  _"Not prey, a pet.  Lord Ramsay Bolton is Reek's Master."  "Seven Hells, that sick twisted beast has no bounds, does he?  You will be safe with me, but we must move fast and silent."_ To his surprise, instead of gratitude, Jon received a panicked babble of how the creature must return to it's Master.  _"Ramsay calls you an "it" and you want to return to him?  Has he driven you insane, is that it? Perhaps I should just cut your throat then, if you will not help me?"_ Jon growled, but his threat backfired when the man nodded.  "Please cut my throat.  Please."  Reek gulped, horrified at such betrayal, to ask for death, which would take Reek from Master.   _"I would cut your throat and give you mercy, but I need you to guide me through these forests.  If you are Ramsay's pet, then you know the directions out of here."_

If Reek still had the capacity for humor, it would have been in hysterical laughter.  Jon Snow found the one and only person in all of Dreadfort that had utterly no sense of direction.  By asking for Reek's help, it assured Jon would be lost until a Bolton man found him.  Yet Reek would be honest, not as a favor to Jon, but because Ramsay taught Reek not to lie.  _"I am dull witted. Reek is very bad with directions."_   Jon swore and shook the frustrating man.  _"Enough!  Lead us out of Bolton's land, now!  A single word and I swear you'll feel my fist."_ Grabbing the frail arm, Jon shoved Reek forward and the creature struggled to walk instead of crawl.  Reek was always good, Reek did not disobey, and instinct kicks in.  Silent, following commands, Reek staggers, trying to pick a direction.  _"Can you not walk faster?"_ Shaking it's head, Reek continued to hobble.  With a curse of frustration, Jon began to head in the direction Reek had set.  Wanting distance, Jon began to simply drag the weakened man along, further into the trees.

Ramsay stood in the clearing, the moonlight etched out every corpse and he carefully scanned everything.  He found Ben's body and noted the tracks around it.  Even in the torchlight, Ramsay could make out Reek's hand and knee prints.  These were scuffled by boot prints, Ramsay knew that Jon Snow took his Reek.  He was relieved that his beloved pet was not dead, but the rage, it burned to think that his Reek was following another man.  How dare that failed crow, that half Stark attack Dreadfort?  The only consolation was that his Boys were taking the only two left alive from Jon's raiding party to their new cells.  Such a fine time learning their secrets would be had, but Ramsay wanted Jon in a cell, too.  With his little Reek at his side, Ramsay would make Jon wish he had never dared to even think of coming against him.  Ramsay had been unaware that Jon had escaped during the fray, until he heard a sound he was very familiar with.  From a distance, Ramsay could hear Reek shriek in terror and that is when he discovered the the clearing of corpses.  As his men gathered around him, still ready for battle, Ramsay smiled.  In a voice that would have had Reek groveling for mercy, Ramsay spoke.  _"Find Jon Snow and take him to our dungeons.  He has my Reek, I want my pet alive, Boys.  See to it."_

Jon discovered Reek was not lying about giving bad directions when they circled the same grove twice.  For a brief moment, Jon considered just cutting the creature's throat and going forward.  However, as flawed as he was, Jon could not bring himself to judge another.  He had no idea what this man had gone through with that monster, but Jon could at least get the man away from Bolton.  Practically carrying the frail man, Jon managed to find a stream and followed it until he found a natural cave.  Tossing the hostage ahead of him, Jon hurried to gain shelter, deep within the rock.  Reek crawled as far as it could into the furthest crevice, trying to merge into the rock, wanting to deny the existence of Jon.  After covering the opening of the cave, Jon turned his attentions to the terrified man in the corner.  _"I won't hurt you if you do as I tell you.  Stop acting the animal, will you?  I am not Ramsay, I am not amused by groveling."_ Reek peeked over it's arm at the barely seen figure in their dark refuge.  _"Reek is meek, is weak.  Reek obeys, Reek crawls, it is a pet, a good bitch.  This is how Reek should be."_ The conditioned response floated back, in a child's sing song voice.

Growling in disgust, Jon snaps back.  _"No, you are a man!  Act like one."_   Cringing at the harsh words, Reek's response was instant and colored by panic.  _"Not a man! Reek is a freak, no man."_ Jon shook his head and sat down, unable to stop arguing with this insane man.  _"Were you born with a cock and balls?  Then that would make you a man.  Regardless of what Ramsay says, you are a man, not a dog."_   Reek began to whine, this conversation was dangerous, it would lead to pain.  Yet, compelled by the voice of Master pounding through Reek's head, more words came unwillingly.  _"Not a man.  Ramsay took...he made...Reek not a man anymore.  Freak rhymes with Reek."_ A harsh intake of breath let Reek know that Jon had understood.  In a voice that was softer, Jon asked, _"Reek, how long have you been at Dreadfort with Ramsay?"_ Reek shrugged and began chewing on a finger stub, scared, for there was really no answer.  _"I do not know.  Reek does not remember...before."  "I am sorry he castrated you.  He is a sick man and you have been done and injustice."_ Arguing that Reek's Master was always right, was wasted on Jon, but Reek muttered Ramsay's words anyway.  After a few moments, Jon ordered Reek to silence, unable to listen to such sickness any longer.  Jon knew that as soon as they have made it out of danger, he would kill this poor wretch.  Save him the one way Jon could.


	7. Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reek recalls his birth at Dreadfort. A conversation with Jon only discomforts them both.

Somewhere during the long hours of waiting, hiding, Reek had fallen asleep.  It was not a peaceful rest, he muttered, whined and writhed about.  Jon thought about waking him up, but the wretch never got loud enough for others that might be searching, to hear.  Most of the words muttered seemed to be pleas and mangled hands clutched for fingers that were no longer there.

Theon was in his tiny cell again.  So dark, he never knew such a dark existed before.  It was smothering, crushing and when it got bad, he would actually wish for his wooden cross again.  At least he would be able to see, there would be others, they would hurt him, true, but he wouldn't be alone.  Theon wouldn't have to think, to feel these emotions, crushing him as harshly as the dark itself.  Remember better things, anything besides the faces of those he betrayed.  He recalled the rich taste of Winterfell ale.  That was a mistake, it reminded him how thirsty he was.  Listening to the elusive drip in the rocks of his stone walled prison, Theon started to sob.  Compulsively, he began to run his hands and tongue along the walls again, convinced he can find that little drip of water.  It is a lie of course, as everything is here.  

Now he was back on the damn cross.  Here was the familiar burning agony of his muscles, stretched almost beyond endurance.  Helpless, unable to move anything but his head, Theon wanted to weep already.  Ramsay was approaching with that blade again, Theon was shredding his own lips, to keep from begging like some pitiful girl.  Here is the damned knife, so gentle, across his skin and Ramsay's voice so soft and kind.  It was all a lie, Theon knew there was no mercy, no real kindness here.  Yet he found himself agreeing with everything this bastard said, anything to delay the pain and he felt sick, ashamed.  As he said something, anything really that seemed wrong to Ramsay, the knife began its bloody song on his flesh.  It was all consuming, like Ramsay himself, and as he screamed, begging for the removal of yet another finger, he wished for his cell again.

At a sharp cry, Jon clamped a hand over Reek's mouth and shook the frail shoulders.  _"Wake up.  You are crying out in your sleep.  Quiet, before they find us!"_   The reaction was instant, large eyes flew open and the thin body jerked away from the unfamiliar hands.  After he was sure the man would not yell or try and run, Jon removed his hand and inched back from the startled man.  Softly now, Jon spoke again _.  "Was it a nightmare of your Master?  He is not here, they have not found our trail.  We can get away and the bastard will not get his filthy  hands on you again.  I promise."_ Pulling itself into a sitting position, Reek was just able to see Jon in their dim hiding place.  Nodding, Reek spoke in a tiny voice.  _"Nightmare.  Master will find us.  He will skin you alive.  If you are lucky, he will flay you to death."_

Tilting his head, Jon asked, _"What happens if I am not lucky?"_ Reek looked directly into those eyes he never saw before and knows so well.  _"If you are not lucky, if he finds you amusing....you become this."_ Reek simply gestured at itself.  _"Ramsay's plaything, an It, like me."_ Reek whispered, then wiped away some tears.  As Reek wiped at the wet streaks, there was a feeling of shame.  This was surprising, as it has been some time since Reek felt such things as shame, Ramsay saw to that.  Reek only had the emotions Ramsay approved of.  Master would not approve of Reek feeling shame over tears, crying is something Ramsay likes to see, so it must be a good thing to do.

To it's horror, Reek realized the new habit of speaking thoughts out loud had emerged again.  It was a habit that began after Ramsay had pinned it's hands to the door frame for stealing an apple and standing without permission.  Reek had been so traumatized by the punishment, the pet had begun to remind itself out loud of things Ramsay wanted Reek to learn.  Jon was staring with a mixture of horror and pity, that made Reek feel even more ashamed.  _"I wonder who you were before Ramsay.  Reek cannot be who you really are.  Once we are gone from this place, I will help you find out who you are."_ The mere thought of that hurt Reek deeply and the fear caused the wretched nobody to gag.  _"I do not want to think about that,please.  Reek is Reek.  Ramsay would be so mad if he thought I was anyone but Reek."_ The quiet babble was punctuated by dry heaving, until Jon spoke in a soothing voice.  "Alright, do not think of it right now.  We must stay silent and at the first break of light, we leave.  I will keep you safe." 

A harsh laugh came from the hoarse throat, a small touch of humor, another emotion Reek forgot existed, then said dryly, _"One time, Lord Ramsay had told me he would keep me safe.  He killed his own men that were about to rape me, just to prove to me that he could keep me safe.  Ramsay said he would help me leave here and I believed him.  All the way until he brought me right back to the cell and torture that he had saved me from.  You can assure me of safety until you turn blue, it means nothing.  You are at Dreadfort, no one here is safe."_


	8. The Threat of Worse Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roose is displeased at the attack and escape of Jon and Theon. Ramsay feels his father's wrath.

_"Let me understand this.  You have not only lost Theon Greyjoy, my hostage turned useless dog.  You have also managed to allow Jon Snow to sneak up, attack my men, then escape.  Jon Snow may be a bastard, but he is still half Stark, who may have valuable information about his siblings.  You do remember?  Two young boys running somewhere through the North?  Along with the possible Arya Stark who has been sighted several times now?  So now, not only are three Starks, possibly flitting through my very own lands, Jon Snow is running through the North starting a rebellion.  Oh, and your obedient little slave, MY hostage has been taken by him.  At least Theon was obedient and could still be used, but no, he is with Jon Snow.  Tell me, Ramsay, how long do you think it will take for Jon to discover who Reek is?  And how long do you think he will let the traitor live once he knows?  So now we have three Stark children eluding you, Jon Snow has gotten away with attacking us and he will murder my hostage, Theon Greyjoy.  I thought you said you were the best hunter of the North?  Then again, we all know you lie, don't we?."_ Roose's words were very soft spoken, but there was emotion.  If it were not for the anger and shame his father were crushing him under, Ramsay would have been fascinated to see his father showing actual emotions.  Roose's pale eyes were ice, shards of anger piercing them and his measured voice was sharp as Ramsay's own blades.

Without warning, Roose let his arm fly and he backhanded his son hard enough to knock Ramsay to the floor.  As Ramsay sat up and touched his bloody mouth, staring with hatred at his father, Roose began to speak again.  _"I am used to disappointment from you.  This latest blunder should not be surprising, yet again, I have made the mistake of trusting you.  Instead of following orders, keeping our lands safe, finding the missing Starks, you have used your time to sate your own sick desires.  While you should have been stopping this little uprising the moment it began, you have been hunting my people. When you should have been following up on tips of the Starks, you have been torturing your plaything.  If it would do any good, I would tear up the papers and disown you again.  However, I keep hoping that Theon is not the only one here who can learn."_ Roose paused and watched as Ramsay stood back up, his fists clenched in rage.  _"I am your son.  Your heir, you cannot change that now!  I will find them, Father.  There is no need to threaten me, I will find Jon and Reek, then I will crush this rebellion.  I can send more scouts out as well about the Starks."_ Ramsay's voice was thick with shame and fear, hated fear that his Father was going to disown him.  Fear that his Father will simply send him away, never knowing his son's true value.

Roose walked over to his son, staring into those wild eyes.  _"Ramsay, you will fix this latest mistake or you will find out firsthand what Theon suffered on that cross.  Do you understand me?  My patience is not endless.  If you fail me this time, I will teach you how to be a Bolton in a way that you can never, ever forget."_ Ramsay stared wordlessly at his father, Roose had never threatened him this way before.  He could see that Roose meant every word.  With a stiff nod, Ramsay forced a response past swollen lips.  _"I will not fail you again, Father.  Jon Snow will be captured and he will pay dearly for this insult to you, I swear it."_

A hand shoved Ramsay against the wall, and Roose held him there.  With a long pale hand, Roose caressed the side of his son's face.  _"You are my blood, I admit it.  Yet I will not hesitate to peel your flesh until you squeal like one of your hunted maids.  I will put you down like a rabid beast if you force my hand, Ramsay."_ The fingers grazed Ramsay's bruised flesh and it felt like a blade.  Only after Ramsay made a small sound of pain, did Roose stop touching his face.  Then Roose leaned in so close, his body pressed against his son's.  His lips grazing Ramsay's ear, he whispered, _"Bring me Jon Snow.  Bring me the Stark children, or I will take your skin."_ Pushing away as if his son's body were a rotted corpse, tainting the very air, Roose backed up and walked away.

After the footsteps faded away, Ramsay straightened and unclenched his fists.  His nails had dug deep into his skin and half crescent moons bled.  _"I will find them.  I will hunt them.  There is no better hunter, Reek could tell you that."_


	9. Name Rhymes with Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Reek are still on the run. Jon discovers Theon Greyjoy.

As the light started to rise, Reek and Jon were already running again.  Well, Jon ran and Reek hobbled, until Jon would drag him.  He allowed for only two stops, only when Reek was too heavy to move any longer.  Then they would collapse, a shattered man and a cast out Crow.  Nothing was said, ragged breathing, twitching limbs, then with groan, Jon would yank himself and Reek up.  The first words from Reek came as the sun was going down and Jon was trying to find them a place of shelter.  Tilting it's head, Reek listens then started to hobble towards it.  _"I remember this.  I know this river.  Over here."_   Jon followed Reek, hoping he was right, they needed to have water soon.  After a few minutes Jon could hear the water too, and he took the lead, pulling Reek along.

Reaching the edge of the small river, both men dropped to their knees.  Jon reached in and began to drink from his cupped hand, then he noticed Reek staring longingly.  But still just kneeling there.  _"Reek...drink some water, you will need it."_ Jon said with a frustrated sigh.  _"Do you have to ask for everything?"_   Reek shook it's head.  _"No, I do not ask.  I am told when I may have something."_ Jon gave a look of disgust then muttered, _"While you are with me you may eat and drink when I do."_ Nodding, Reek gave his programmed response to such things.  _"Yes, Milord."_ Snorting, Jon tossed back, _"I am no Lord, boy.  Just Jon, thank you."_ Sniffing, Jon stared at Reek, then gave him a mighty shove into the icy water.  Jon followed, putting his hand over Reek's mouth, anticipating the shriek.  _"Calm yourself.  You stink, you will bring them on us quicker.  Stand still and stay quiet."_

Jon briskly rubbed the whimpering man and dunked him until he no longer smelled so badly.  He pushed the wet, lank hair, a strange color, white laced with brown, away from the gaunt face.  The sun was retreating, but giving a last few valiant rays, one of these landed on that face.  Jon felt as if a giant had slammed one of those huge fists into him.  The shock sucked all air away and when Reek looked at Jon's eyes, the creature screamed.  Before Reek's scream could get more than a second, Jon shoved that traitor's head into the river.  Reek's arms and legs flailed, but the creature was too weak, too meek to overcome Jon's fury.  At least it is a death, somewhere inside of Reek there is happiness, to die in water.  Yet, just as Reek was so peaceful, it was over and another game lost to a stronger person.  Rough hands yanked Reek to the ground and threw him into the dirt. 

 _"You..You traitor, Theon Greyjoy! Murderer of my brothers!  Little boys!  You burned my home to the ground, betrayed Robb, and Bran, Rickon!  What harm could they do you, Theon?"_ This was growled and spat at the cringing man, as Jon kicked the frail man several times.  Jon stopped himself from kicking this traitor to death.  _"Say something!  Why?  Why would you do that?"_ Jon's voice was raw with grief and anger, dropping down next to Reek...Theon.  _"I..I am Reek.  Theon was before, Ramsay hated him so much.  Ramsay likes Reek, Ramsay takes away Theon's pieces, so Theon left.  But he never killed your brothers, it's a lie and Reek cannot lie.  The brothers escaped with a servant and Hordor.  The..Theon allowed an Ironborn to kill and burn two boys so everyone would think it was them.  Then Ramsay came and burned it all down.  Even my horse, on fire, not my horse....Theon's horse...I am so sorry....Ramsay will be mad at me for this."_ After babbling this story, Reek covered it's face with it's hands and sobbed.

Grabbing Reek, Jon forced the hands down and looked into those haunted eyes.  _"Your name is Theon Greyjoy.  You are Ironborn.  And a traitor to the North.  I want you to say that."_ Reek stared into the eyes of a wolf and smelled wonderful death.  _"I am Reek.  I am Ramsay Bolton's pet.  I am loyal to him."_ Came the conditioned response, even though another voice screamed in his...HIS head.  _"I was a man once."_ came a small whisper.  Jon slapped the traitor hard and growled at him again.  _"Theon Greyjoy. Ironborn. Traitor.  Say it and I will let you die."_   Reek felt such a moment of hope but he tried to tell himself it was another trick.  Bad enough he is thinking of himself as anything other than "it".  _"I wish I could die, Jon.  Ramsay will never let me."_ The simply said statement back was the last of Jon's temper.  With a frustrated yell, Jon took out his sword and told the traitor to present his neck.  Reek did so, making itself..himself as much of a target as possible, still hoping beyond hope.

 _"Theon Greyjoy, you are a traitor of the North and I sentence you to death."_ With those wonderful words, Reek watched as the blade arched, then saw the arrow go through Jon's chest.  Reek dropped to his hands and knees, the hope inside died out.  Ramsay checked to see if Jon was dead and chuckled over him.  _"Oh, good, you are still breathing.  Jon Snow, my father Roose Bolton would like a word with you.  So would I, for trying to steal and kill my property.  But we shall heal you a bit first, I think.  I want you to be hale and hearty before I make you wish for death."_ Ramsay stood then, gesturing to his men to take the injured man.  Then he turned to see his pet.  There was little Reek, bruised, wet, but trembling, cowering, and Ramsay would never admit how happy he was to see Reek.  _"Well then, come to your Master, pet.  You are safe now, Reek.  I will always find you."_ Whimpering his gratefulness, Reek began to kiss his Master's boots, leaning into the large hands, caressing him.   One tiny thought slipped, just one and it made Reek shudder against Ramsay.  "I am not an it."   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you...never a happy ending. but there is a little more left. a little bit of hope for Reek. maybe.


	10. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue:  
> Roose disciplines Ramsay. Reek and Ramsay both have secrets.

Reek knows how generous his Master is to him.  He is grateful, after all, since Ramsay captured Jon, he has been more merciful to his pet.  Reek walks more now, his dog collar still firmly in place, but he is allowed to serve in the keep now.  If Ramsay asks, Reek is an "it", a pet, not a man but a freak.  Reek hides his secret close, his only secret. It feels good to have one again.  Head lowered, Reek stands, waiting for orders, waiting for anything his Master wishes, really.  Even when mistakes happen and pain begins, Reek clutches that secret deep inside and it helps somehow.

As Jon Snow slowly healed in a cell, Ramsay continues to search for the Stark children to no avail.  Roose was happy to have Snow, but he gave Ramsay no quarter,else his son would never obey.  It was really no surprise to anyone when the day came that Roose flayed Ramsay.  The worst part of it was that Reek was Ramsay's shadow, he follows his master everywhere.  Part of the humiliation for Ramsay was having Reek right there for this.  Keeping his eyes on his feet, Reek shivered, knowing that however bad this punishment would be, it will be tripled upon him later.  Ramsay was not in the dungeons, nor on a wooden cross, not such an important lord as him. No, Ramsay was in a small room in the keep, one that Reek did not know existed.  This was Roose's room, not his bedchamber but a room that contained skins that stretched along the wall, torture devices that Roose has collected as well.  It was as scary as the dungeons and Reek clutched his hands, thinking of his secret.  Hands and ankles cuffed, spread eagle between two posts, Ramsay glared with hatred at his father who simply picked up a knife.  _"I warned you, Ramsay.  You are my son and will act like a proper lord as well as a proper son.  I told you to find me the Starks.  Did you do this one thing for me?"_ Ramsay answered the soft voice.  _"No, Father. I found no sign of them."_

Roose was more skilled than even his son at flaying.  He was careful and methodical, peeling down Ramsay's chest.  It was not much, nothing compared to what Reek has endured, therefore when his Master started to groan, for a second, Reek felt superior.  This was squashed instantly, what terrible, treasonous thoughts and Reek almost cried with fear.  However, something changed during the flaying, something that made Reek's skin crawl.  Ramsay tossed his head back and forth, moaning, panting in pain.  As Roose peeled a lovely ribbon out of his son, Ramsay suddenly stiffened and then cried out.  Reek stares in astonishment, Ramsay still shuddering from pain and from his orgasm.  Ramsay caught his pet peeking up at him from behind mangled hands.  The look back spoke of pain and violent sex.  After all, Ramsay's pet had seen one of his secrets.  Reek made sure his eyes only showed acceptance, submission and a need to please his Lord.  Roose smirked at his son, then chastised him for making a mess in his britches.  Once he felt his son was sufficiently shamed, he released him.

Later that night, as Reek tried not think of the bloody games he played in Ramsay's chambers, he brought forth his secret.  He peeked over to the bed, to make sure his master was deeply asleep first.  Then silently, Reek lay upon the rug next to Ramsay's bed and thought secret thoughts.  Bad thoughts, disloyal thoughts, but they seemed to keep him from being an it again.  _"I am Theon Greyjoy.  I am Ironborn.  I am a traitor to the North.  I deserve to die...as Theon Greyjoy."_


	11. Who Am I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the last chapter was meant to be the end. However, many have asked me to continue this story, so I will. Take my hand, and let us go visit some rather interesting folks....  
> There is Ramsay, Roose, Reek who thinks he might know who he is and then there is Jon...is it Jon still?

Jon thought.  He had plenty of time to think in fact.  It was the worst torture of all.  He had known of Roose Bolton all of his life.  The leech lord, oh how they laughed and sneered behind his back!  Even Theon, that arrogant little shit had joked.  Jon wondered if Theon felt the same horror Jon does now.  He had known of the bastard boy of course.  Gods know, bastards always know of each other, they are actually more family than those they lived with.  However, Jon would never have accepted Ramsay as another life form, never mind as a brother of sorts.  He knew of the hunts, heard of terrible tales while still at the Wall. It was the mere thought of his little sister with Ramsay that made him betray his own vows.

Betrayed his Crows, his vows, just to find a traitor he couldn't kill, to discover his sister was still missing or dead.  When he was tossed into a cell, he expected pain, torment and he was given only the unexpected instead.  Ramsay was a beast, but his father, oh, Roose, he was truly worthy of Nan's stories.  Jon could have handled torture, that was not a thing he feared and Roose seemed to know it.  Instead of rough men with torture devices, a maester came with healing and pain killing liquids.  Instead of Ramsay with his flaying knives, it was disinterested lads with clean water and food.  Once Jon healed enough to walk about, the food came less and less.  Plenty of water but Jon was starting to kill and eat the rats, afraid of starving to death.

The solitude was killing him, driving him insane.  He would welcome pain if it brought another person, another voice.  Unable to help himself, Jon began to attack the lads who came with the water.  He almost managed to escape, killing two of the men, he was halfway down a tiny stinking hallway before he was brought down.  After that, Jon was chained by his feet and hands, tossed into the cell to scream and rage.   Finally, four burly men arrived at the cell, to stand over Jon and announce he was to see Lord Roose Bolton.  Heaving a sigh of relief and fighting back tears, Jon nodded, standing passively.  

He was too underfed and weakened to attempt fighting off four serving girls, never mind men.  Besides, Jon was so happy to hear voices, to know he could leave this cell and speak with Roose.  The men grabbed his arms and marched him to a small chamber one flight up.  It was slow going as Jon was still secured by heavy chains, his feet could only shuffle really.  Going up the stairs was difficult, every time Jon fell, the men sneered and taunted him.  Ignoring them, he concentrated on getting to see Lord Bolton.  By the time they reached the chamber, Jon was stunned at how out of breath and shaky he was.  He needed food, he was not above begging Bolton to feed him.  This sickened Jon.

The chamber was the first warm place Jon has been in for quite some time.  Human skins decorated the walls, sweet smelling rushes lined the floor and there was Roose Bolton, the Leech Lord.  Sitting at a small table, a table that held a wonderful smelling bowl.  It was a large bowl of stew, venison maybe, Jon could not stop sniffing the air.  Nor could he help the drool that filled his mouth and as a large growl came from Jon's stomach, Roose smiled.  It was a thin parody of a smile actually, the eyes remained cold and clinical.  _"I am not sure how to address you.  Do I call you the bastard Jon Snow or Lord Commander of the Crows?"_ Jon tried to wipe the drool away and concentrate on Roose, but he was so hungry, it was unbearable.  _"Jon Snow is my name.  Lord Bolton, what do you intend to do with me?"_


	12. Discipline and Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roose torments Jon without a single bruise to the man. Jon learns his fate.

_"Right now, Jon Snow, I intend to ask you questions and receive answers.  Please have a seat."_ Roose said coolly, gesturing to the chair, directly in front of the bowl of stew.  Jon shuffled his chains to the chair and sat heavily.  He could not help but stare at the food and he reached for the spoon, unable to help himself, so hungry.  A sharp voice and a pale hand stopped him.  Pinning Jon's hand down, Roose spoke mildly.  _"I offered you to sit for an interrogation.  I don't recall offering you a meal.  Surely the son of Ned Stark has better manners than that.  Perhaps, if you tell me everything I wish to know, then you may have some stew."_

Jon found to his horror that he was nodding eagerly.  He wanted that stew so badly, he could kill for it, anything for it.  With a ragged voice, Jon asked what Lord Bolton wished to know.  Trying not to moan, Jon put his hands into his lap, and tried to ignore the wonderful smell in the bowl.  For the next hour, Jon answered questions, sometimes the same ones over and over.  Jon tried not to think about how the stew would taste, how it was getting colder, but would still be delicious.  Yet he found himself staring at the food, hammered by Roose's demand for information.

To his own growing despair, Jon answered everything, told everything.  Words spilled from his mouth like the drool he kept wiping from his chin.  It did not matter, giving this information anyway, did it?  After all, he was no longer a Crow.  The politics of Wildlings, Crows and Stannis no longer mattered.  He has been cast out and so  had no allegiance to protect.  How honorable was it to starve to death over words?  As for his family, nothing he could offer would help Roose find his siblings.  He himself came looking for a sister long gone.  Jon only knew that his brothers were alive.  From Theon himself.  How could he know where they would be at this time?  Dead or lost in the North somewhere?   To his disgust, he found himself apologizing to Lord Bolton for not having more information about his brothers. 

When Roose seemed to have become satisfied with the answers, he gestured to the bowl.  _"You may eat now.  Eat your fill, Jon Snow.  You have done well and I thank you for the information."_   With an expression of someone watching a bug crawl across their leg, Roose watched Jon grab the spoon.  Jon shoveled the stew into his mouth, barely chewing.  Even cold it was wonderful, he ate until the bowl was clean, embarrassed of his behavior now that he was full.  Remembering Roose's comment earlier about manners, Jon muttered.  _"Thank you for the food Lord Bolton.  I do apologize for my manners, but I was starving."_   Roose stood up and began to circle the table, slowly.  Jon was reminded of the direwolves stalking their prey and he tensed, turning his head to follow Roose.

_"Jon, we have a problem.  You see, I only needed information from you.  I have no further use for you.  You are a bastard of a fallen house.  The Nights Watch want your head.  You are a traitor, an oath breaker and a deserter.  The right thing to do would be to send your rotting head to the Wall.  It would show them that the Warden of the North will keep traditions and the law.  However, my son....he is very upset with you for stealing his creature, killing his men and dogs.  He is temperamental, but useful.  Like most beasts, to make them useful and obedient, you must offer both discipline and reward.  Ramsay has been punished for his failure in finding your brothers.  Now he needs his reward.  I do not wish to have it known that I have Jon Snow in my hands.  So my son will be discreet, you will be grateful to know that you will have a new name.  No longer an oath breaker, a bastard, see it as a new start."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so short..there will be more of course.


	13. A Useful Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roose gives Jon a deal he cannot refuse. Ramsay receives his new pet.

With as much dignity, Jon could possibly have left, he spoke, every word bitten off, tightly controlled.  _"Then I would ask that you cut off my head, Lord Bolton.  I have seen what your son has done to Theon Greyjoy.  I will not become a creature.  As Warden of the North, take my head and give it to the Wall, it is your right, your duty."_   Roose gave that thin edge of a smile and shook his head.  _"You do not seem to understand.  There is no question, no point in making requests of me, boy.  I have already promised you to Ramsay.  Of course, you can find a way to commit suicide perhaps.  That is probably your best hope of freedom.  As for what my son has done to Theon, it is regrettable, but he was a traitor.  You should be pleased that he was punished for his actions that caused your family's downfall."_

Knocking the chair back, Jon stood up and faced Roose.  Anger felt much better than fear, this was righteous fury and Jon was filled with it, along with stew.  _"What of your actions that caused my family's downfall, My Lord?  If Reek is the punishment for Theon, what should your punishment be?  Your son's?  He burned Winterfell and you put a knife into my brother's heart.  Out of all of us, I would say you are the biggest traitor and oath breaker in the North!"_ Jon never even saw Roose move, never saw the hand that struck him.  Stew or not, Jon was still weakened and he fell against the table, his face burning.  Before Jon could move, Roose was leaning over him. Leech Lord indeed, but they got it wrong, Jon thought crazily, he leeches strength and courage from others.  Because he couldn't breathe, could not move, icy fear sending skeletal fingers up Jon's spine.  

Roose had a flaying knife in his hand now and it was resting gently on Jon's face.  The point was at Jon's eye and he had to fight himself not to beg.  _"So handsome, such a waste you chose the Nights Watch. Still, how would you look to any woman or child after I have worked on that face?  It might not bother you if I take out your eye much, but when I begin to flay your face, do you think you might lose some of that arrogance?"_   Very carefully, Jon spoke softly.  _"I apologize for my arrogance, My Lord."_ For a moment, Jon thought he was about to be flayed anyway and he had to stifle a whimper.  Roose was carefully moving the blade over Jon's face, his cold eyes searching as if for a good place to begin.  _"Am I going to have any more trouble from you, boy?"_ Asked Roose, almost in a whisper.  Swallowing hard, Jon whispered back.  _"No, Lord Bolton."_

Straightening back up, Roose extended his hand to help Jon stand up.  Trying to control the shaking of his fingers, Jon accepted the hand.  Roose pulled Jon up fast and then grabbed his hair, yanking the head back.  Now came that whimper Jon had been stifling and Roose wanted to hear.  Leaning close to Jon, past the thick hair, until Roose's lips touched his ear.  _"You will walk with me to see Ramsay with no complaint, no escape attempts.  My son will control you, but I control him.  I can keep you from some of the worst tortures inflicted upon Theon.  You will behave for him and you will serve me.  I want to know everything he does, everything he says.  Your men killed my spies, his loyal men.  So you shall be a poor replacement but a spy nonetheless.  Refuse and I shall leave you to my son's gentle mercies.  I shall not blink when he cuts out your tongue for arrogance.  It will mean nothing to me that he leaves you in a cell for months, your mind rotting away.  When you are covered in shit and blood, begging for a sip of water, I will not see you."_

Jon was astonished to feel wetness on his cheeks.  When did he start to cry?  He took a trembling breath and it did not give strength to his voice.  _"I will do what you want.  Please, Lord Bolton, don't let him...don't let him..."_ Jon choked on a sob and Roose gave another tiny smile, then taunted him.  _"Don't let him..what?  What do you most fear Ramsay doing to you, Jon?"_ Another sob and Jon spoke in a rush, hating himself, hating the Boltons, hating this fear.  _"Do not let him castrate me, please.  I will be your spy, I will do what he wants, but please, don't let him take that."_ Jon could not stand the begging, but he could stand the thought of Ramsay taking his manhood even less.  _"No castration, no dark lonely cells?"_   Roose sounded amused and Jon felt a flare of anger, but dared not show it.  _"Very well, Jon.  We have a deal then, don't we?"_ In a voice that was threaded with fear that sickened him, Jon agreed.

Trying to control his trepidation, Jon walked by Roose's side, the men still there, walking behind the prisoner.  As they went down further into the keep, Roose kept a hand clutching Jon's shoulder.  Shuddering at the talon-like feel, Jon did not dare to do more than look around as they walked.   They entered the dining room and there was the devil bastard, the traitor turned creature kneeling at his feet.  Ramsay had been sitting, drinking ale, tired after a satisfying hunt, Reek kneeling like a good dog.  Ramsay stood up so fast that his pet squeaked and skittered backwards.  Grinning, Ramsay greeted his father, the grin becoming a full shark smile as Roose spoke.  _"I have received the information I needed for now.   As I said before, you may have him for a pet.  However, I may wish to use him again in the future.  I want him whole, intact with all his limbs and pieces.  He is not to be locked and buried alive till his mind breaks.  Save your worst for Reek, do you understand?"_

Overjoyed to have the wolf and still having his father's punishment in his mind, Ramsay nodded.  _"Of course father.  Might I give him a new name?  I like to name my pets."_ Roose seemed to consider this for a moment just to enjoy his son's excitement then nodded.  _"I do not want anyone to know we have Jon Snow.  Rename him and make him a tame wolf for us."_   With a push forward, Roose released Jon and left the room, his men following.  Jon caught his balance and stood still, afraid to be alone with the bastard.  He had to bite his lip not to call out to Roose.  Ramsay and Jon stood still as the door shut, Reek silent, huddled on all fours at a distance.  After the door shut and footsteps began to fade, Ramsay spoke.  _"You are my mine now, my new pet.  Don't you think as my new pet you should be on your knees?  If my father wishes me to grant you any mercies, you should give me a reason for it.  Right now I just see a belligerent man who will need to be flayed if he doesn't kneel."_ Ramsay's voice was so full of danger, that Reek flinched and whimpered.  Jon looked at what used to be Theon Greyjoy then back at Ramsay.  Gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, Jon knelt down.

 


	14. A Dog and A Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay decides a new name is needed for Jon. Reek must play a game to find the right name. Jon must bend without breaking.

Ramsay looked at Jon kneeling, still so proud and arrogant.  That was fine, Ramsay smiled, he will take care of that soon enough.  _"Very wise of you, Snow.  Of course you will need so much more training, I hope you learn quicker than poor Reek.  He is a very slow learning creature."_   Ramsay circled Jon slowly and watched as Jon steeled himself. He was refusing to turn to watch Ramsay move, not reacting to the taunting words.  _"What shall we name you?  Something fitting."_ Ramsay mused, standing to the side of the kneeling man.  As if he thought of something exciting, Ramsay suddenly gasped and smiled, then turned to look at Reek.  _"I know, let us play a game!  Reek loves games with me, don't you, pet?"_ Reek nodded instantly even though his trembling and fear was increasing at the thought of a game.  _"Reek, help me think of a wonderful new fitting name for this new pet.  Come closer, little Reek.  Over to me, now."_ As Reek began to crawl nervously over to his Master's side, Ramsay spoke again to Jon.  _"As I said before, my little Reek is dim witted and I am sure you saw for yourself how timid he is.  He used to be like you in some ways.  Strong, arrogant, handsome and thought too much of himself.  It took some time to break him down.  To create the lovely behaved pet he is now.  How long will it take for you, I wonder?"_

  Jon kept telling himself not to react, do not speak unless he needs to.  Swallow down the anger and fear at the foul bastard's taunting.  His fists clenched so tightly it hurt, and his nails dug into his sweating palms.  He would not even look at Ramsay unless he had to.  Instead Jon watched the ghost of someone he knew, crawl like a whipped dog to his Master's side.  He watched as the gaunt face lifted up slightly, shaking to let the wild hair cover his face.  Through that curtain of hair, he saw bulging eyes peer up at Ramsay, terrified yet resigned to whatever atrocities the bastard had in mind.  I will NOT turn into that.  I will not be a pet, a shattered creature like Reek, he chanted to himself.  Ramsay's voice cut through Jon's thoughts like a knife.  _"This is the game, Reek.  Think of some good new names for my wolf.  If I like a name you pick, you win.  If I do not like the name you choose, you lose."_ Jon watched as Reek's face went so pale that he thought the creature might faint.  _"Yes, Master."_ Came the fearful reply and the game was on.

Reek was panicking which was bad, it made him say or do stupid things, he knew that.  Trying to take deep breaths, Reek delved into his broken brain to think of a good name.  Timidly, Reek shifted his gaze to Jon and began to think words that Ramsay would like.  Words that would fit his new pet.  _"Winter?"_ Reek offered feebly, already knowing he will lose the first round.  Ramsay seemed to consider this for a moment and then shook his head.  _"That was a good try, Reek.  However, does he really look like a Winter?  I do not think so, sorry Reek, you lose."_ Ramsay had such a look of sadistic glee on his face, it made Jon want to beat him until his face was broken.  As broken as those who have the misfortune of running into the evil demon.  He remained kneeling, his face impassive, and watched with pity as Reek trembled, crying.  _"I am sorry Master."  "I know you are, Reek, but you did lose, didn't you?"_ Ramsay waited for his pet to nod miserably.  _"How many letters are in the word Winter, Reek?"_ With amusement, Ramsay waited while poor Reek tried to think past his fear of punishment.  _"S...six, Master."_

 _"Very good.  Six letters."_ Ramsay removed his thick belt and Reek was weeping loudly now.  _"Oh, come now, Reek!  I have not even started yet!  What a terrible impression for my new pet.  Do you want him to think that you do not behave?  That you believe you should be above discipline?  That you do not enjoy my games?"_ In spite of the lightly taunting tone, both Jon and Reek heard the massive threat looming in those words.  _"Please forgive me, Master.  I want to play the games.  I need discipline because I do not learn well.  I want to behave, to be a good dog, I do!"_ Came the desperate response and Reek inched closer to Ramsay, huddling down before the boots.  With disgust, Jon watched Reek kiss the bastard's boots and the sneer on his face was seen by Ramsay.  _"Do not judge so harshly, wolf.  It will not be long before you will kiss my boots.  Lick them, if I wish it."_   The low growl came out, even as Jon tried to stifle it, gritting his teeth.  Jon expected Ramsay to hit him, but the man just smiled and looked back to his victim, kissing his boots.  _"Reek, you will remove your breeches now."_ With a moan of shame, Reek nodded and with trembling hands, dropped his breeches.

Jon found himself staring in horror at the scarred mess between the spindly legs.  The legs themselves were striped with scars, colored with bruises. Jon wanted to throw up, unable to stop staring at the space where Theon Greyjoy had kept all his pride.  _"Reek, stand up and spread your legs far apart as you can.  You may brace your hands behind you, on the table.  If you squirm or move away, I will double this punishment, do you understand, pet?"_ Nodding, Reek assumed the position and waited for the pain to begin.  Ramsay snapped the belt to watch Reek jump a little then spoke.  _"Six letters?  Then it will be six strokes of my belt.  That is fair, even merciful, don't you think, Reek?"  "Yes, very fair, Master.  You are so kind to Reek, thank you."_ Reek babbled, tears streaming.  With tremendous strength and accuracy, Ramsay swung the belt and it smacked hard into the scars between Reek's legs.  Jon winced and bit his lip in stunned horror.  Reek's reaction was much greater.  He howled and his whole body jerked.  Reek had to clutch at the table, not to fall down in agony.  Five more to go, Jon thought, five times on that mess of tender scars and this was mercy?  This was Ramsay being kind?

Another swing of his arm and Reek screamed so high pitched it hurt Jon's ears.  The next hit caused Reek to lose his voice, the pain was too intense.  Reek's head was flung back, his jaws wide open, foam building slightly at the corners of his mouth, but no sound.  _"Three more to go, pet.  You are taking your punishment very well."_ Ramsay's voice was so soothing and the belt was caressing the swollen, bloody groin.  He knows when to take a break, so the terror will increase, so his victim will not pass out and miss the pain, Jon thought.  I am to be left in the care of this man?  This is intolerable, I cannot allow it, I cannot, he screamed inside his head.  When Reek began to whimper, his breath and voice back, Ramsay swung again.  Another howl of pain, then in quick succession, as if Ramsay had grown bored, the last two strikes.   _"You may pull up your pants and kneel again, Reek."_ Ramsay said casually, still keeping hold of that belt, as if he knew he would be using it again very soon.  Reek wept but pulled up his breeches, crying out when the rough fabric brushed against the pulsing scars.  He knelt down and hung his head, pitifully.

 _"Now again, Reek, think of a better name for this new beast of mine."_ Trying to ignore the horrid throbbing in his groin, Reek again wracked his mind for a good name, the right name.  Peeking up at Ramsay, then peeking back at Jon, wringing his hands, Reek let a whimper slip out.  Then it came to him, in a flash, he recalled everything Ramsay has said about Jon so far _.  "Wolf! He is your Wolf, I am your dog, Master!"_ he blurted out, almost positive he was correct.  Cringing, the pet waited to hear if he was right.  At least Wolf is only four letters, if I am wrong, Reek thought to himself.  Ramsay clapped his hands together and the overwrought Reek screeched, jumping.  This made his Master laugh.  Smirking down at his pathetic pet, Ramsay  leaned down to pet Reek's hair.  Reek scrambled to get closer to his Master and seemed grateful for the touch.  This made Jon want to scream.  _"Very, very well played, Reek.  Clever little dog sometimes!  We shall call him Wolf then."_

Stepping past Reek, Ramsay finally stood in front of Jon and looked at him, through him, it seemed.  _"Now then, tell me what your new name is."_ Jon wanted to speak, he did, but it was not what Ramsay would want to hear.  So Jon glared up at the sneering man and said nothing.  _"What is your name?"_ Ramsay repeated, this time slowly as if he were talking to an idiot.  Jon growled like a wolf but would not call himself one.  So fast, as fast as Roose earlier, Ramsay whipped the belt across Jon's face. 


	15. Say Your Name

Mouth full of blood, his face burning, Jon found himself on his hands and knees, stunned at the blow.  Spitting out blood at Ramsay's boots, he tried to lunge forward, unable to play this game.  It was intolerable, what Roose proposed, he would rather have Ramsay skin him alive.  However, before he could really lunge, a thick, hard boot connected with his head, causing stars and pain.  The blows kept coming, seemingly from everywhere, causing him to curl up, trying to protect himself.  Only when Jon was near to fainting, did the blows stop and he was yanked up.  A large fist clenched, pulled on his hair, and he was face to face with Ramsay.  The playful amused man was gone, even the man he remembered from the woods was gone.  This was the real Ramsay Bolton, the true demon, mask removed, the master that made Reek.

Jon stared into eyes that were clearly insane.  There was nothing there he could speak to, not even human, you cannot speak with a beast.  Not that there were no emotions, oh yes, rage and jealousy were there.  The joy of a predator catching it's prey shined and the malice of a demon that just made an excellent deal.  Hissing his words, Ramsay spoke, pulling Jon's face closer, in biting range.  _"You dared to steal my Reek!  You tried to kill my pet!  Did you touch him too?  Try to fuck him?"_ Spittle rained upon Jon's lips but he tried to answer without heaving.  _"No, I never touched him.  I would rather fuck a hound than that thing of yours"_ Jon was hoping to anger Ramsay into killing him, but it did not work.  _"Such a pretty, pretty face."_ Ramsay whispered, almost lovingly, still keeping Jon's head in his painful grip.  _"I wish I could use my flaying knife on it, improve upon it.  But father said nothing permanent.  So this won't be permanent."_ To Jon's utter horror, Ramsay came forward, viper quick and sunk his teeth into his cheek.  Screaming, Jon was afraid for a minute that the beast might rip his skin right off and eat it.

Reek had become so meek, so scared all the time, he couldn't help himself.  In terror, he had run under the table to hide, his dog instincts kicking in.  This is not Theon Greyjoy, this is not a him behavior.  This is It, this is all Reek and no matter how much he chastised himself for it, he hid.  Shaking so hard, his sore teeth chattered and sounded like bones to him.  Ramsay was all over Jon and the wolf was screaming now, paying for daring such insolence.  Reek knew how bad that was, how angry it made his Master.  Now Jon, no, not Jon..Wolf, do not forget, he hissed in his head.  Wolf must learn to obey, not to anger Ramsay.  I must remember who I am and who I can be again someday.  Too much screaming out of his head and too many scary things in his head, Reek cried, hugging himself.

When Jon screamed, Ramsay released the skin, licking up the blood, a bloody smile on his face now.  Jon tried to pull away and Ramsay punched him hard enough for him hit the ground.  Leaning over the man, stunned, on the ground, he whispered gently, _"You are going to be my Wolf.  My pet.  Except my Wolf will have no teeth nor claws and does not attack.  You will learn to serve me."_   Jon wanted to scream so many things, spit in Ramsay's face, he wanted to reach up and choke the life from him.  He was dizzy, hurt in so many places, it was agony to move and to his despair, his voice sounded weak.  _"I am sorry I stole your Reek.  Sorry I tried to kill him.  Forgive me for being disrespectful, My Lord."_ The effort it took Jon to speak those words was quite obvious and Ramsay seemed amused.  _"Well, I thank you for the nice apology, Wolf, but I am afraid that is not enough.  Reek will tell you that I am a strict Master, my pets behave or they are punished.  Since you are clearly not ready to behave...punishment must happen.  But first...you will answer one question for me.  If your answer is correct, the punishment I have already decided upon will happen.  If your answer is incorrect, then a new punishment will happen instead.  It will involve the company of my best men."_ With a suggestive grin, Ramsay made sure Jon understood the implications of that.

 _"What is the question?"_ Jon asked, quietly, laying on the floor, staring up at the sadist.  Ramsay smiled and grabbed Jon's sore chin, squeezing it.  _"What is your name?"_ Jon stared up at the bastard for a moment, panting.  His mind screamed, his body on fire and Jon did what he had to do.  _"Wolf."_   Delighted, Ramsay released the grip on Jon's chin.  _"Very good, Wolf.  I hope you remember your name easier than Reek.  He is a slow learner, I hope you are not, Wolf."_   Except the Lord's eyes said different, his eyes said that he would dearly love Jon to resist and fight.  So he could administer more pain, better torments each time.   _"So since you won, the original punishment it shall be!"_ Turning his head slightly in his pet's direction, Ramsay called, _"Reek!  Stop hiding under that table and fetch whichever of my boys you see first.  Tell them to bring at least one more, this Wolf of mine may still be feisty!"_ With a muttered, _"Yes, Master."_ Reek scurried out from his hiding place and hobbled as fast as he could.  Away from the Master and Jon, if only Reek could leave his mind as easily.


	16. Taming and Claiming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds out what his punishment is. Ramsay spends time with his Reek. Damon and Skinner are thrilled to have a new victim.

Reek was relieved to be away from his Master and Jon...Wolf!  He must remember that!  It was horrible to think of being created...seeing Wolf go through it reminded him.  As he headed into the courtyard, Reek's relief faded into fear.  He was afraid of Ramsay's men, they liked to hurt him sometimes.  Ben was the only one he had trusted and he was dead.  Whimpering, wringing his hands, Reek saw Skinner first and cringed.  Skinner was the most sadistic of the group, short of Ramsay himself. He looked about frantically, but there were no others in sight.  Trembling, Reek timidly went towards him, then jumped back when Skinner turned.  _"What do you want, little doggie?  Are you being lazy, hiding from your Master?"_ This was said hopefully, Skinner's eyes shining at the thought.  Shaking his head, Reek blurted out, _"Master sent me.  He asks for two of his men to help with J..Wolf, the new pet."_

Grinning, Skinner was delighted to know he was getting an even better victim than Reek.  _"Tell Lord Ramsay I am on my way with Damon."_ Nodding, Reek hobbled away as fast as he could.  He was so afraid that Skinner might have noticed he almost said Wolf's old name, but luckily Skinner did not.  Had he not been so gleeful over a new victim, he might have heard it and told Ramsay.   I am a good pet, a loyal pet that does not forget rules or names.  I must remember.  Reek worried that with so many things to remember,  he would forget something.  What if he forgot his secret real name again?  Or forgot that Theon was HE not IT? 

By the time Reek got back into the dining room, he could hear Skinner and Damon coming.  Ramsay had Jon still laying on the floor, but instead of laying on him, he had a boot grinding into Jon's chest.  He grinned at his pet who instantly said, _"Skinner and Damon are here, Master."_   Reek backed into the wall and stayed there, as the two large men entered.  _"Skinner, Damon, this is my new pet, Wolf.  He is very disobedient, still feral really, but we can tame and train him.  Take him to the highest wall here and find him the smallest cage we can fit him in.  Oh, and if my bad Wolf resists in any way, you both may fuck him until he submits."_ Ramsay smirked at the terrified look Jon gave him.  Taking his boot off of Jon's chest, Ramsay backed up a little and gestured at his men to take him.  So terrified that these men will mistake anything as resistance then rape him, Jon let the men move him like a doll.

Ramsay watched his men take Jon away with a look of malicious glee, then turned to face his Reek.  Even though that look was not meant for his beloved freak, Reek thought it was.  Amused, Ramsay did not disabuse Reek of this notion, enjoying the panic.  Whimpering, shaking, the pet slid boneless, down the wall, pinned by the dangerous look.   Reek went lower than any dog debasing itself and practically squirmed across the floor.  Inching the whole way, eyes peeking up, shiny with fear and submission, was too much for Ramsay.  Before Reek could get to his Master's boots to kiss them, Ramsay reached his pet and gave a light kick.  Once Reek froze, Ramsay used his boot again, to roll him onto his back. 

As he knelt down, one thigh on each side of his frail pet, Ramsay pulled out his knife.  Reek began to sob, forcing himself to stay still, wanting to ask why, but knowing better.  In a soft voice, Ramsay reassured his terrified dog while licking up the tears.  _"Hush, little Reek.  Poor little pet, I am not going to cut you, if you stay still.  I am just cutting your rags off.  It's a different blade I will be putting into you."_ With a mixture of relief and gratitude, Reek thanked his Master.  Even though his Master could be viscous during sex with Reek, it was still gentler than flaying.  Anything was better than the knife.  Ramsay cut his pet's clothing off, undid his own breeches.  Lifting Reek's legs over his broad shoulders, Ramsay brutally forced his way into the dry pet.  After dealing with Jon, Ramsay needed the screams, the blood and the begging.  Reek did not disappoint.  Even as his voice was going hoarse from pleading, Reek still knew it was better than the flaying knife.  How long will it take Wolf to learn that? 

Jon was in misery.  The cage he was shoved into was made of iron bars and so small that Jon could not move at all.  If he shifted, his face pressed harshly into the bars, Jon's body was compacted and his joints were on fire.  The men had allowed his to keep his breeches, but that was all.  Even at the Wall, Jon was never at such  mercy of the cold.  Worse, every morning and every night, a man came and dumped icy water upon him.   This lasted for only two days and nights, but it felt like an eternity to Jon.  The third morning, Ramsay came and hunched down, staring at his frozen captive.  _"You look so very cold, I must have forgotten that you are no Crow anymore.  Perhaps, if you tell me your name, I will let you warm up inside."_ Jon chattered his teeth, trying to say his name, on the third try, Ramsay could make out the word, Wolf.  Grinning, Ramsay praised his pet.  _"Very good!  I am glad you remembered.  You may come inside and warm up now."_ Standing up, Ramsay spoke to his men then left.

When Damon and Skinner pulled Jon out of the cage, he could not even stand.  They pulled him by his arms and dragged him most of the way, before Jon could finally move his legs.  Into a dark cell again, thought Jon despairingly, seeing the dungeon.  However, this cell was not dark, it was quite bright actually.  A huge fire pit took up most of the space.  The warmth stung yet felt wonderful all at once and Jon groaned.  Both men laughed and began to taunt Jon while chaining him just before the fire.  _"Enjoy the nice toasty feeling, Wolf.  It might get a little too warm in here for you, but at least you are out of the cold."_   To his horror, Jon saw that he was chained spreadeagled too close to the large fire, and already he was sweating.  _"Please, wait, don't leave me like this!  Don't leave me like this!"_ he roared, in a panic and angry, he was duped by the little bastard.  Yet the two men just laughed more and slammed the cell door shut behind them.  


	17. A Wolf Bites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon discovers he is at the mercy of Skinner and Damon.

Jon was covered in sweat, vomit and blisters were starting to form on his bright red skin.  He wanted to cry in misery but he was afraid of losing anymore fluids.  When he heard the two men enter the room, he found himself pleading.  Even as Jon tried to shut his mouth, to his horror he begged louder and the men laughed.  _"Please, no more, tell him, tell Ramsay I will behave.  Tell him I am his Wolf, anything, just stop this!"_ Suddenly, the fire and Jon were doused in freezing cold water.  It sent such a shock into Jon's system that he could not draw a breath, not a single one.  Heaving, shuddering, Jon could not breathe or scream and he wanted, needed to do both.  Instead, the world spun then went grey and Jon wanted, needed nothing at all.

When Jon woke up he was laying on straw, it was sticking to him as he seemed to be covered in some fluid or lotion.  A rough voice came from his left and Jon flinched, turning.  As he moved, a scream came out of his mouth before he could shut it off.  Shuddering, he lay, staring up at the owner of the rough voice, the man called Skinner.  _"You should be grateful, Ramsay let the Maester have a look at you.  Even gave you something for the burns, pity, they would have made such pretty scars.  Now, what is your name again?"_   Croaking through a dry throat, blinking away tears of pain, Jon managed to mutter.  _"Wolf."_ Damon and Skinner grinned, Damon clapping with extreme sarcasm.  _"See?  He is not as dim witted as Reek, more sane too, better to play with.  Lucky for us, Ramsay wants us to make sure you_ _are a tamer wolf before he plays with you again.  We don't mind getting bit, Wolf, don't worry...you won't be wild much longer."_ Threatened Damon as the two men walked over to Jon, who was backing away.  

 _"Wait, you don't...you do not need to hurt me.  I will keep my word, I told Ramsay I would.  I am Wolf, Ramsay is Master, I know that now."_ Jon tried to sound reasonable, but he was desperate and wounded, trying to back away into the wall.  _"Always wanted to fuck some girl as pretty as you are.  Pity you are not a girl after all...but no matter, really."_ Skinner growled as he followed the panicking man across the floor.  Damon said he wanted to try out the pretty, pouty mouth and Jon snapped.  Grimacing at the terrible pain of his body, Jon lunged forward and wrapped his mouth around the nearest leg and bit deeply.  As Skinner hollered and brought a large fist down on Jon's head, Damon's boot kicked his gut twice before Jon fell into the straw, writhing.  _"Lord Ramsay was right, wasn't he?  You still bite, you little bitch!  You'll find out that your Master will always be right."_ A long slithering sound came and then pain exploded across Jon's back.  _"Let's see how you like getting bit back, Wolf.  How do you like the bite of my whip?"_      Taunted Damon as he gave five deep lashes to the screaming man.

When the whipping ended, Jon was shuddering, face in the straw, panting.  A fist grabbed his hair by the roots and lifted Jon's head up.  Skinner caressed Jon's face with his blade and spoke yearningly.  _"Oh, how I wish I could carve some of this lovely face of yours.  I would be so slow, so gentle, I would take the whole thing, like a lovely mask and pin it to my wall.  Too bad you cannot be disfigured.  But I can do this to make sure you will not bite at me again."_ The knife was in his mouth, Jon felt Damon's hands holding his head still and Jon screamed.  Skinner carefully removed one back tooth from either side of Jon's mouth, as he screamed, choking on blood.  He tried to move,to struggle, but Damon was sitting his bulk on Jon's sore, weakened body.  Staring at his bloody teeth, now dropped into the straw, Jon moaned.  _"There now, want to bite at me some more, Wolf bitch?"_ Jon shook his head, gagging, dribbling blood still.

 


	18. The Boys Hunt A Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon and Skinner have Jon at their mercy. Jon discovered they have no mercy.

Jon was quite sure he pissed himself, he was also pretty sure he did not give a fuck.  Because it seems like he is about to get fucked right now.  The thought was intolerable, right up there with being castrated and Roose was nowhere to help, even if he would.  As Damon and Skinner tried to remove his clothing and spread him out, he just had to fight.  Not just resist, act like the wild wolf they accused him of being.  Though Jon did not try and bite at all, he tried kicking, clawing, yanking away.  For a bit it seemed Jon had won, because after a few minutes the Boys threw him to the ground.  Maybe they had decided he was not worth the effort?  No, it was so they could kick and punch him until Jon had no fight left.

Only when Jon lay still, panting and groaning, did they cease.  Then his breeches were cut off, Skinner's knife leaving some deliberate shallow cuts behind, as Jon screamed.  A most horrible thing, the worst thing Jon thought he could ever feel was happening.  The icy cold blade was in the crack of his cheeks, a terrible sharp point at his most tender opening.  Jon did not dare move or even breathe, only a soft pleading sound.  _"Now, I am going to let you decide what kind of wolf you want to be?  You can be a good wolf and get fucked by two cocks.  You can be a bad wolf and feel my blade give you a fucking first.  Don't worry, I won't cut you to death, but you won't enjoy getting the stitches for it.  Then you will still get fucked by us and the maester can redo your stitches, add a few more perhaps!"_

Filled with icy fear, Jon whispered, _"Don't please, I will be a good wolf."_   Jon was barely able to feel relief at the knife disappearing before he was yanked onto his hands and knees.  _"Think you can stay still for us?"_ Damon asked, roughly grabbing Jon's chin.  He was in a panic, already fighting not to try to get away, so he was honest. _"I don't know if I can."_ He pleaded through gritted teeth.   Chuckling, Damon gave Jon a rough slap on his head, while he squeezed Jon's chin.  _"Well, at least you are being truthful.  Tell you what, if you stay still, it will just be me and Skinner.  If I have to call men to help hold you, then they get a turn too.  How many men do you think you can take on your first time?"_ Shuddering, Jon tried not to cry as he answered.  _"Don't call more, I can stay still."_

 Nodding, Damon replied, _"I thought you might say that."_ Jon felt Skinner's hands on his hips, Skinner's cock forcing it's way between his legs and he moaned.  His whole body shook with the effort not to bolt or resist.  _"Time to tame this bitch."_ Skinner growled and thrust his way into the dry hole.  Unable to help himself, Jon screamed and tensed his whole body.  That just made it hurt worse and Skinner groaned at the tightness, pounding himself even harder into Jon.  Cries tore from Jon's throat as Skinner relentlessly fucked him.  Damon had his cock out and was watching Jon's face while stroking himself.  When Skinner came, pressing himself into Jon, he bit deep into the Wolf's shoulder.  A bite for a bite.

After he pulled out, Jon collapsed down, but he was not finished.  Damon went behind Jon and Skinner pulled the now crying man back into position.  _"Be a good wolf, remember?"_ Skinner reminded him, smirking.  But Jon could not go through it again, he couldn't and he began to beg.  _"Please, no more, I cannot.  I..I can use my hands, don't, don't do that again, please!"_ Laughing, both men ignored Jon's pleas, as Damon began to fuck him next.  At least this time, he was wet so Damon did not tear as much, but he was still as brutal as Skinner had been.  The whole time, Jon could not stop himself from begging, though at least he stayed still.  All his begging did was make Skinner taunt him and Damon go faster.  By the time Damon had shivered over him, roaring out his pleasure, Jon was in a haze of pain and humiliation.   When Damon stood back up, Jon simply tried to curl into a ball and shut his eyes, silent.

He did not move when the men left the cell, slamming the door behind them.  Even when it registered that he was lying in a puddle of blood, piss and ash ridden water.  Jon merely added vomit to the mix and lay there.  He pretended he was dead.  He wished he were dead.  A short time later, Skinner returned and Jon did not move, but he did start to beg.  _"Please, no more, I behaved, I did.  I cannot take more, not right now.  I want to be a good wolf, but just let me rest, please."_ Clucking at Jon, Skinner pulled out a skin of water.  "Here now, you are pitiful, all this begging.  And look, lying in a puddle of filth, no way for a wolf to act, is it?  Crawl over here before I change my mind and drink the water myself." 

So thirsty, Jon crawled forward and gratefully accepted the water.  Skinner let him drink almost the whole thing before putting it away.  When he reached into his pocket, the wolf cringed and backed up, expecting the knife.  _"Stupid wolf, it is just some bread for you.  Here, you have been good, you can have a little food."_ The rough voice coaxing Jon back over, timidly, Jon took the bread with his mouth _.  "Very good, maybe you will make a good Wolf for your Master after all.  Though, I must say, I hope you mess up, because Damon and I would love to have a pet too."_


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry the ending is so short and took me so long...but i need it short for the impact i am going for.

When Ramsay finally came to visit Jon in the tiny cell he was in, he was greeted by a timid wolf.  Jon slunk forward, desperate to do anything to escape this cell, to escape Damon and Skinner.  Three times Jon has tried to be Wolf and failed.  This fourth time around with Damon and Skinner brought Wolf out for good.  He was even thinking of himself as Wolf, it made him remember better.  This time I can remember, I can obey orders.  I cannot take more of this, I cannot!  He...Wolf would rather endure Ramsay's attentions, even the worst of them, than take on these two horrors again.  Each time gets more brutal than the last and this time, oh, he cannot even think of it!  Groveling silently before Ramsay's...no....Master's boots, he licked them, remember last time Ra...his Master told him to do that.  He shamefully shuddered with gratitude when he heard approval in the voice he needed to hear.  _"Much better.  You remembered how to address me.  Are you ready to be my obedient Wolf now?"_   Sobbing, Wolf nodded against his Master's boots.

Ramsay was standing Reek before him, having a silent appraisal of his property.  All the wasted limbs, every inch of flesh injured in an old or new way.  Each bruise, each scar told it's own story and Ramsay enjoyed reading each of them.  His fingers pressed and traced, as did his tongue, but mostly his eyes marked every inch of his Reek.  The submissive creature never moved except to flinch a tiny bit at the worst of his injuries.  All the while, Reek watched his Master timidly, making tiny fearful noises.  He has a secret and he will never use it, never get relief from it.  But it is his and during times like this it helps to remember there is a secret name.  It can never even be whispered, worse than useless and he can never die.  At least he does not have to believe himself an It and that was enough.

Roose came up behind his son and cleared his throat.  His son no longer flinches enough when Roose startles him and he knows he needs to be wary.  It was time to speak with Jon and find out why this is.  Manufacturing a reason in his head, he says, _"Ramsay, where is Jon, I have use of him."_   Ramsay chuckled and said, _"Try the kennels?  Or the stables, perhaps?"_   Roose looked at his son without a hint of amusement.  _"Well, which one is it?"_   Shrugging, he said, _"I have no idea and I care even less.."  "You don't know or care where your pet is?"_ Ramsay grinned up at his father.  _"He is no longer my pet.  Too pretty and prissy for my taste.  I gave him to Damon and Skinner as a pet."_


End file.
